No Such Thing As Fairy Tales
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: Masked balls, love potions, and life-altering kisses.  Yes, Hermione Granger, there is no such thing as fairy tales.


I know I don't usually post this late at night (nearly midnight!) but I've spent most of the day working on it. I got the idea while watching an episode of "Merlin." I'm such a huge fan of the classic Disney movies, so it felt right to write it. Hope you enjoy!

I own nothing.

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>The night was clear and dark as midnight approached. The Great Hall teemed with lively music, candle light, and masked couples waltzing. Soon the masks would come off and the partners revealed to one another for the first time. It was the last Halloween ball before the seventh years graduated.<p>Hermione Granger sat alone. The silver feathered mask she wore itched terribly, and she counted the seconds until she could pull it off. A figure dressed in black approached, asking for her hand to dance. Not a single distinguishing feature was visible, but the man's hand was ice cold when she slipped it inside his. She shivering visibly as he led her to the center of floor and wound an arm around her back. The pair danced silently until the song ended, at which time Hermione pulled away from her dance partner.<p>

"Wait," he said, keeping hold of her hand. Behind his mask, his eyes swept her figure taking in the soft, sparkling gray dress she wore. His eyes met her own. "One more dance. It's almost midnight, and then we go back to being who we were. Just give me one more blissful dance, and then I'll let you go."

With a small nod, Hermione allowed her masked classmate to take her back in his arms. They danced close, allowing one to warm the chill of the other. The second song ended, and he allowed her to go on one condition. "Meet me in the courtyard just before midnight," he requested, kissing her knuckles.

"I will," she promised, leaving the dance floor. She returned to her table and watched as the man in black took a new dance partner. Her thoughts wandered as she tried to discern who he was. The hat he wore covered his hair completely, allowing no stray wisps to slipped passed it. The black mask concealed the better portion of his face and darkened his eyes to the point that they looked like two small lumps of coal.

Hermione had spent most of the ball attempting to pinpoint exactly who each character was. She had managed to identify a few when her task was interrupted by the man in black, but now she could continue. If only she could have kept her eyes off of him, if only she could stop herself from fixating on his identity. Ten more minutes and it would be revealed.

Gathering her clutch and wrap, she left the hall for the courtyard all the while wondering if his wish were a practical joke. Perhaps he had already discovered who she was and wanted to humiliate her. "Maybe he's a Slytherin," she said to herself as she sat down on the bottom step.

"You came."

Hermione turned to look at him as he blended into the darkness around them. No further words were exchanged until he reached her, sitting down beside her. "I didn't think you'd come," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. They turned to face one another, Hermione silently asking him why. "I saw you leave, and hoped it wasn't because you were going back to your room. I watched you all night, and needed to know who you were. Even with your face half covered, I still thought you were more beautiful than the rest."

"Well, it's almost time," she replied, feeling her cheeks heat. "What if we don't like who we are when the mask comes off?"

He shook his head, frowning momentarily. "I don't think that'll happen," he murmured, cupping her flushed cheek. As he neared, Hermione felt her eyes drift shut and then his lips were upon hers. The clock tolled twelve and their masks dissolved. Opening her eyes, she gasped against his lips. Pulling back, gray eyes widened in shock. "But you," he stuttered, a tone of disgust in his voice.

Gathering her wits, Hermione bolted up the stairs and into the castle. Draco Malfoy sat alone, staring up at the girl as she disappeared behind closed doors. His lips still tingled from the kiss, the only kiss, they ever shared. It should have bothered him. After all, she was a muggleborn and the girl whom he deemed fit for ridicule since first year. She was nothing like his father described when he educated his only son on the hierarchy of the wizarding world. There was no one in the school who could best her magical abilities, and for that Draco had hated her.

There had to be a reason he was drawn to her, he thought as he rose to return to his dormitory. Perhaps a perfume that contained a mild love potion. Yes, that must have been it. Men had flocked to her table all night long in hopes of dancing with her, and each one was more dejected then the last when she turned them down. But she said yes to him, and that sent his mind spinning.

Within minutes, he was back in the Heads' dormitory. The common room was dark, the fire extinguished. A pale sliver of moonlight spilled in through the curtains. He cast Lumos to light his path up the stairs to his bedroom. Hermione's door was already closed, no doubt locked heavily as well. But he could hear the faint sobs coming from the other side; once again the result of his handy work. With a sigh, he entered his own room and changed out of his costume. Once his head hit the pillow, he willed sleep to overtake him.

But it never came.

After an hour of tossing and turning, he threw back the covers angrily and stormed down to the common room. It wasn't long that he was alone. Hermione's door opened just as he sat down on the sofa. The light from her wand cast an eerie shadow across the room, causing Draco to wince when it hit his face.

"Sorry, I thought I heard something," she mumbled, turning to go back upstairs.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked just as her foot touched the first step.

Hermione turned around and took a small step closer to him. "Worried I'll tell someone you kissed a mudblood?" she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Draco gave no reply, but looked into the empty fireplace. "Don't worry. I don't want anyone knowing either."

"It was a first for me," he commented. "Well, two firsts really. I've never had a girl run away crying after kissing me."

The witch scoffed, shuffling closer. "They must not be as smart as I am."

"Who is?" he wondered.

When he turned his head to look at her, Hermione backed up once again towards the stairscase. "Well, I'm going back to bed," she declared. "If you wouldn't mind, try to make a little less noise when you come up." Then she turned on her heel and was gone.

The next morning, Draco awoke on the sofa with a pale blue blanket strewn over him. He didn't recognize it and wondered if Hermione had covered him. After a dramatic evening and a long night of thinking, he was loathe to journey down to the Great Hall for breakfast, but his stomach seemed to demand it. And so he went, sulking through his meal as he stared at the Gryffindor table. More specifically, his eyes remained trained on Hermione, as she too merely pushed her eggs from one side of the plate to the other.

Beside him, Pansy Parkinson rested her hand on his shoulder. "Drake, you seem tense," she murmured, pressed her lips to his temple.

Draco shrugged away from her. "I'm fine," he grumbled, forcefully stabbing his fork into a sausage. From the side of his eye, he noted the frown his friend wore and softened. "I didn't get much sleep last night. I'm just tired is all."

With a smile, Pansy leaned down, a curtain of black hair hiding her face, and pulled a vial out of her purse. "Take this," she instructed, pressing it into his hand. "I always take it when I can't sleep. Just a small sip, though."

He pocketed the vial and thanked her before leaving. Pansy smiled as she watched him go. What she had given him was no simple sleeping draught, but a love potion. No longer would his affections for her be denied. Pansy would finally have the wizard she deserved, and no one would ever underestimate her prowess with magic.

Draco returned to his dormitory and pulled out the vial. One small sip might be good enough for a few hours of sleep, but he didn't want to chance waking up before his body got the rest it so desperately craved. If he took it now, he would be asleep the second he climbed into bed. Pulling out the stopper, he drained its contents in one quick sip. His head buzzed and his mouth felt dry. The room began to spin as his eyes grew heavy. Then all he saw was blackness.

It was an hour later that Hermione returned to the room. A large stack of books teetered in her arms as she crossed over to the coffee table. But, before she could set them down, she tripped, watching each tome fall to the floor around her. Cursing herself for the momentary bought of clumsiness, she began picking them up until she noticed what it was that made her fall - an arm.

"Draco?" she gasped, noticing for the first time the unconscious boy on the floor. She shook him with all her might, pleading for him to awaken. Hot tears stung her eyes when he remained unresponsive. "Please wake up," she mumbled, shaking him harder. Pressing two fingers to his throat, she felt his pulse jump beneath them. At least he was still alive. Gathering her wits, she rose from the floor and pushed open the portrait. Then she levitated him, fighting her arm to remain steady, down to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomphrey leapt from her chair at the sight of pair. "What happened?" she demanded, taking over for the shaking witch. Draco was settled onto a bed where she immediately set to work.

"I don't know," Hermione replied, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "I just found him like this, and he wouldn't wake up."

"Has he taken anything?" the mediwitch inquired, scanning his prone form with her wand. Again, Hermione said that she didn't know. "Go back to your dormitory and search for anything that can answer this question."

Turning on her heel, Hermione raced back to her room to search. It didn't take long for her to come across the vial that must have fallen from his hand. A few droplets of purple liquid remained at the bottom. She hoped it would be enough to identify the potion.

"Please find Professor Slughorn," Madame Pomphrey instructed as she studied the remaining liquid. "He should be able to tell us what this is."

Half an hour later, Hermione returned to the hospital with the Potions professor in tow. Both women watched with bated breath as he sniffed it, swirled it, sniffed again.

"Well, what is it?" the elder witch demanded, hands perched on her hips. "I have a patient here who needs curing."

Professor Slughorn looked at them as if seeing them for the first time. "This is a curious potion. One I haven't seen in years," he replied, a tone of awe in his usually jovial voice. "If it is what I think it is, the boy will be just fine." Hermione released a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. "If I may, I'd like to study it a bit further."

Pomphrey sighed impatiently. "Fine, if you must," she replied. "Miss Granger, you may go."

Hermione balked, but left when the nurse shot her a look that told her not to question her. Slughorn followed her out of the hospital, peppering her with questions about the great Harry Potter. She provided the perfunctory answers, half listening to his questions.

"What is it you think he took, Professor?" she inquired when they reached the staircase. They would be going their separate ways, and it was her last chance to ask.

"I believe it to be Verus Diligo Basium," he told her. "It means 'true love's kiss', but a witch as smart as you probably knew that already," he added with a chuckle.

She had known its translation. "And Malfoy will be fine once you find a way to reverse it?" she asked.

"Miss Granger, as I am sure you've already figured out, there is no potion I can administer to reverse this magic," he told her, knitting together his brows. "Now, don't you worry about Mr. Malfoy. He'll be fine."

The professor left her standing there as he muttered under his breath about silly children and love potions. There was only one way to ease Hermione's whirling mind - a trip to the library.

Her search proved fruitless. After hours of combing through books about love potions, Hermione was no closer to discovering the potion's answer.

"Bit of light reading, Granger?" she heard behind her. Turning around, Hermione shut the book and stared up at Pansy. "Love spells, I see. Hoping to finally catch the Weasel?"

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione replied, "I don't see how my personal life is your business."

Pansy merely tutted and took a seat across from her, carelessly toying with the pages of a book. "Have you seen Draco?" she inquired. "I tried to get into your dormitory, but no one answered."

"I have seen him," Hermione replied. "He's in the hospital and he's unconscious."

Pansy's brown eyes widened momentarily before she schooled her features back to indifference. "Well, I really should go check on him then," she decided, rising to her feet. "I'm sure he'll want a friendly face there when he wakes up."

Hermione let her go without another word. She was glad to be rid of her, but Hermione also wondered if Pansy was somehow connected to the love potion Draco had taken. She would just have to bide her time until the Slytherin hung herself.

Once out of the library, Pansy took off at full pace for the hospital. When Draco awoke she would slap him for not heeding her advice. But, she smiled to herself as she burst through the doors, her kiss would revive him. All would once again be right between them. Madame Pomphrey was nowhere to be found when she approached Draco's cot. She took hold of his hand and glanced around the ward once to be sure the coast was clear.

"When you awake, we can finally be together again," she murmured, pressing her lips to his.

But Draco never stirred. Pansy let out a frustrated cry and tried again only to be met with the same results. It wasn't supposed to be like this! Her kiss, the kiss of his true love, was supposed to wake him.

"Oh, Miss Parkinson," Professor Slughorn greeted her. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

He did not seem to notice her distress, and for that she was glad. "Just checking on my boyfriend," she told him, holding tightly to Draco's hand.

"Is Madame Pomphrey here?" he inquired, smiling kindly at his student. "I've come with news for her."

"Check her office," she replied. She waited until he was gone to try again. After the fourth kiss, Pansy admitted defeat and left. Hermione approached just as she was leaving. "He hasn't woken yet," she informed as the brunette brushed past her.

"I didn't think he had," she replied. "Professor Slughorn told me he had some information for me."

The door opened and Madame Pomphrey appeared. "Ladies, join us inside, if you don't mind." They heeded her wishes and entered. "Headmistress McGonagall will be arriving soon in hopes of getting to the bottom of this."

"The bottom of what?" Pansy inquired uneasily. Her question fell on deaf ears, and they all waited in silence for the headmistress's arrival.

When she finally appeared, looking more tired than Hermione could ever remember seeing her, she got right down to business. "Well, Poppy what can be done?"

Slughorn spoke up instead. He explained the love potion Draco had taken. "The only cure, I'm afriad, is a kiss. But it can't just be any kiss. It must be administered by the one he loves."

Hermione expected Pansy to step up to the task, but she remained behind her with her head down. McGonagall sighed impatiently. "And who might that be?" she inquired.

No one would meet her eyes. Hermione glanced at the sleeping boy. The entire situation reminded her of fairy tales she had read as a child. She had been foolish to think that fairy tales only existed in books. This was a world of magic in which she lived; anything was possible. Tearing her eyes away from Draco, she looked back at Pansy. "Try it," she urged.

Pansy shook her head sorrowfully. "I already did," she replied softly.

"You knew the cure?" McGonagall asked, but needed no answer. "Miss Parkinson, my office when we are through here. Poppy, do what you can until we find someone who can reverse these effects. Miss Granger, I ask that you remain here to keep a watchful eye on Mr. Malfoy." Receiving nods from each witch, she turned on her heel and led Pansy out of the hospital. Slughorn, too, followed them out.

"I will be in my office if you need anything, Miss Granger," Madame Pomphrey informed her after conjuring up a chair for Hermione.

She took the seat and studied Draco's sleeping form. He looked peaceful. Gone were the sneer lines around his mouth and eyes. His brow was smooth and his hair swept back from his forehead. He was Sleeping Beauty, and any minute now his knight in shining armor would awaken him with a kiss. Briefly she wondered if her kiss would do the trick.

"This is silly, Draco," she muttered. "Love spells and kisses. It's just silly. You'd probably curse me into next Tuesday just for thinking it." But she had to try. If she failed, all the witches in Hogwarts could line up for their turn.

Standing up, she leaned over his and closed her eyes. Their lips touched. His were dry but soft, just as they were the night before at the ball. She thought she imagined the moan that met her ears, that is until a hand cupped the back of her head to hold her in place. Opening her eyes, she saw Draco's open too in a meeting of brown and grey. Quickly, she pulled away and called for the nurse.

"Merlin, it worked," she gasped. The clacking of heels neared. "He's awake." Pomphrey pushed her out of the way to examine her patient, all the while explaining the goings on of the day's events to Draco.

"But you," he murmured in astonishment as he met Hermione's eyes.

Tears returned to Hermione's eyes as he stared at her. "Yeah, me," she muttered, readying to flee once more.

"Wait," he called out when she reached the doors. One hand on the doorknob, Hermione turned back to him. "Thank you."

With a nod, she left.

Draco was released from the hospital the next day. His lips tingled from the magic of Hermione's kiss as he entered the common room. How was it possible that she was his true love? The line between friend and foe had begun to blur, but he couldn't, for the life of him, remember when it had happened. Perhaps the first time he saw her bleed. They bled the same because they were the same. Two humans with magical abilities who had been able to put the past behind them.

"Pansy's been suspended."

He turned to watch her descend the staircase. "I heard," he replied. He moved towards her slowly, fearing she would run if he moved too fast. "Pomphrey told me that I love you. I thought that only happened in fairy tales."

Hermione shook her head. "There's no such thing as fairy tales, Malfoy," she replied resignedly. He now stood in front of her, so close she could feel his breath.

Draco took her hand in his own, and laced their fingers together. "If you had told me that a few days ago, I would have believed it, but now I'm not so sure," he murmured. His head bowed and his free hand cupped her cheek.

And then, he kissed her.

The End.


End file.
